The Emperors' Wrath
by Drahkma
Summary: Stormtroopers are the Emperor's wrath made physical. Stormtrooper sergeant Merric is one such manifestation of said wrath. Follow him and his comrades as they fight the newly born rebel alliance on various worlds, all while hunting the mysterious item known only as Halcyon Twenty, discovered on the wreck of a bulk cruiser in dark space.
1. Chapter 1

_**Chapter One**_

_**Two years before the battle of Yavin**_

The system was uninhabited, with the trio of planets unable or undesirable by most species bathed in the weak yellow light cast by the systems star. At the moment, there were three foreign objects in the system, just outside the orbit of the barren world farthest from the suns' light. The first and largest of the three was a dagger shaped vessel, easily recognizable as a symbol of the reigning power in the galaxy. An _Imperial_-class star destroyer, white hulled and bristling with weapons, sat quietly in the lifeless system. Not far from the mighty warship was a second, smaller vessel. Unlike the larger ship, this one was clearly as dead as the space it occupied. It had, at one point in the not so distant past, been a _Neutron Star_-class bulk cruiser. The ships' hull plating was blackened and buckled by turbolaser strikes, and no lights could be seen along its' darkened shape. A few gun turrets were still intact, aiming impotently out into the blackness of space. The third and smallest of the visitors to the system, was currently departing the belly hangar of the destroyer. It was a _Sentinel-_class landing craft, and currently was the only vessel utilizing its' thrusters.

On board, stormtrooper sergeant SN-1923 stood in the connecting 'neck' of the lander, his gauntleted and gloved hands resting on the back of the pilots seat. To his superiors, and on paper, his name was his number. To his squad, he was Merric Corbrin, a human male from the world of Denon. Like millions of men and women, he'd passed the rigorous courses of the academy on Carida to become an Imperial stormtrooper. From behind the bone white and tinted goggles of his helmet, he stared at the dead bulk cruiser drifting through space. The sergeant strained his eyes to see any signs of activity from the cruisers' few remaining guns. Stuck in a landing craft where neither his rifle nor his armour would provide much protection had him on edge. His mood was not helped by the headache that had been pulsing just behind his eyes for the past several hours.

Someone loosed a long, low whistle into the closed channel shared by the squad of stormtroopers in the lander. "Safe to say that she didn't suffer a malfunction." The speaker, SN-1907 or Kouran Meribal ,the squad corporal and Merrics' best friend since starting the academy, noted. "Rebels, do you think?" The question was directed towards Merric but the sergeant had no answer for his comrade. It was clear the vessel had been attacked and overwhelmed by something. Either a ship or multiple ships were responsible for the damage but with no idea as to the identity of the attackers, he merely shrugged.

The rest of the squad, strapped into their seats on either side of the troop bay, were not so reserved. "Rebels? Out here?" Snorted SN-1944, Avira Sabot, the squad medic, and the only female in the unit. "My credits are on pirates."

"Brave pirates, attacking an Imperial ship" SN-1913, Thoren Shale said, joining the conversation, "besides, rebel cells are popping up all over the place. More spring up each month."

"Cut the chatter" SN-1233, Fen Drask snapped, the tension in his voice audible. The trooper was always nervous on insertions but dependable under fire, just like the rest of the squad. Merric let the reprimand go uncontested. His headache was getting worse and they were so close to the dead ship that he could see the turrets pointing in their general direction even without his helmets' magnification feature. If, for whatever reason, the guns went off or a panicked survivor opened fire on the lander, they'd be blown apart in seconds.

Trooper armour could withstand a lot, but their suits could only provide them with thirty minutes of air if they were forcefully ejected from the transport. "Are you picking up any life signs?" He asked the dark suited pilots.

The co-pilot, sitting on the right side of the cockpit, shook his head. "That's a negative, sergeant. Briefing from the _Huntress _indicates nothing besides sporadic movement. Probably maintenance droids. Can't imagine anyone surviving whatever happened here."

The report didn't come as much of a surprise. He had been briefed by lieutenant Calad but he'd been wondering if the raiders had decided to board and loot the cruiser. He didn't care much for surprises, especially not when those surprises carried blasters. He turned towards the troop bay,stepping past Kouran and into the aisle between the seats. "Listen up" he said on the squad channel, "we're not going to stay long. Orders are to get in and take a look around. Any information we can find about what happened here we need to get back to the _Huntress._"

"So we need to get to the bridge" Thoren suggested, "unless it was damaged during the attack."

"Let's hope not. They'll be expecting something when we get back." Merric said, wincing as his headache spiked to all new levels of pain. He made a note to stop by the medical bay and have himself checked out. He couldn't afford to have his concentration disrupted and put the squad at risk. Today was a low risk mission but they were stormtroopers. Most of the missions they went on involved blaster fire and explosions, where a moments' hesitation could prove fatal.

A click in his ear indicated someone had just opened a direct comm channel. The blinking symbol in the upper right corner of his heads up display assured him it was private. "Are you alright?" Kourans' tone was uncharacteristically concerned "your head bothering you?"

The sergeant bit down on the irritated response that immediately leapt to mind. Of course his karking head hurt. "Just a little worse than usual. Don't worry about it. Probably didn't get enough shut eye last night."

"You should have medical take a look at you when we get back." The concern in his second in commands' voice was obvious. Kouran might have enjoyed the occasional laugh at his squads expense but he was a loyal friend.

Not that Merric was feeling especially appreciative of the corporals' interest in his problems right at that moment. "What are you, my kriffing nursemaid? Focus on the mission."

"Copy that, sergeant." The channel was closed and Merric sighed, closing his eyes in an effort to mitigate the continued ache behind them.

"Coming up on the cruisers hangar" the pilot reported and the sergeant shifted slightly as he felt the transport dip its nose. "Two minutes."

"Gear up. Check your seals and make sure weapons are green" he said, knowing the squad, _his _squad,would be doing that automatically. Three years of the hardest training in the galaxy and with two years of combat experience, they were far from fresh faced rookies. "Keep your eyes open in there. Scans are negative for lifeforms but sensors have been wrong before. I don't want any surprises." A chorus of acknowledgements from the eight soldiers answered him. He lifted his E-11, checking the weapon one last time for any faults. An ammunition counter appeared in the lower left corner of his HUD. Below that were the nine small dots that monitored the vital signs of his squad. If he focused and blinked at any specific one, information on the selected trooper would fill the left side of his visor. Currently, all nine were showing a healthy green.

"Sync up." At that command, the troopers lifted their own weapons, syncing the targeting system in the rifles to their helmets. Most of the squad carried the standard issue E-11. The two exceptions were the squads heavy weapons expert, SN-1191, Arjun Komaad, a hulking brute of a trooper and taller than his brethren by a good five inches. He carried a DLT-19 blaster rifle. The other was SN-1977, Janos Dynn, the squad marksman. Like most stormtrooper snipers, he carried a T-28 repeating sniper rifle. Both followed the example of their fellows.

The deck of the _Sentinel-_class lander trembled under their boots as it entered the artificial gravity of the dead bulk cruisers' hangar. The squad stood in one smooth, coordinated motion and turned to face the boarding ramp, the two troopers in the front, SN-1902, Devan Thane and SN-1812, Orien Lenz, bringing their rifles up at the ready. With a hiss and whine of hydraulics, the ramp lowered hitting the hangar deck with a dull clunk. The troopers rushed out into the dimly lit bay, boots thudding on the ramp,rifles up and panning through slices of space.

With the entirety of the squad outside the lander, they quickly formed a semi-circle around the ramp. "Looks clear, sarge" Orien reported, rifle still up and ready.

"You could say that." Kouran agreed, the corporal standing at the right end of the semi-circle. "No signs of a fight but no signs of life, either. Helmet reads suitable levels of oxygen."

"Won't have to rely on our back up supply, then. But keep an eye on the oxygen levels. As beat up as this ship is, there's bound to be a hull breach or two somewhere." Merric said, trying to penetrate the darkest corners of the bay. A few banks of lights flickered on and off, briefly illuminating landed shuttles, ladders, and fuel canisters. Like his corporal had noted, there were no scorch marks from blaster fire and no bodies. The hairs on the back of the sergeants neck were standing up. "Devan, your sister's in the navy, yes?"

"Yes,sir."

"Do you know the average crew of a ship like this?"

The stormtroopers shoulders shifted slightly as he shrugged, "a couple thousand I think. Maybe more."

"So where is everybody? If a ship already came and rescued the crew, we should have heard about it." It was Avira who asked the question, voicing exactly what the sergeant had been wondering.

"Maybe they had to leave in a hurry. Maybe a ship did pick them up and the ranking officer hasn't submitted a report yet." Kouran suggested, but his tone indicated that he very much doubted that outcome.

"We won't get answers standing around" Merric announced "but I don't want to leave the transport unguarded. "Drask, Lenz. Stay here and guard the lander. I'll comm status reports to you every quarter hour."

"Copy that, sir" Fen said, tone as bland and dutiful as ever. Now that he was somewhere that had less chance of coming apart in the event of a freak accident or being fired upon, he had relaxed slightly. He stationed himself to the left of the boarding ramp, mirrored by Orien on the right.

The remaining seven troopers moved on towards the doors that would grant them access to the rest of the ship. Every few seconds, the lighting panels would blink back on, stutter and die again. "Looks like the reactor is still live" Kouran said from his position behind Devan, who'd taken the point man position. "That's good, right?"

"Better than making our way in the dark," Devan added,pausing at the door. It should have opened at the squads' approach but it remained shut. "Strange" the point man muttered, moving to the access panel to the right side of the door. He hit the activation stud and the doors slowly opened. The squad moved inside, weapons at the ready. Behind Devan and Kouran came Arjun, hefting his heavy rifle, Merric was at the center of the group, with the remaining three members of the squad bringing up the rear. Unlike the hangar bay, the light panels here were completely deactivated, plunging the corridor into total darkness. The sergeant blink-cycled through his helmets' vision modes, until he came to the low light setting.

The hall was suddenly painted in shades of grey. The troopers in front of him were a paler shade, while the walls, ceiling and floor were darker, nearly black. The seven troopers moved quickly but quietly, their natural senses enhanced by their helmets' audio and visual features. Merric estimated they'd covered three quarters of the corridor when Devan stopped in his tracks, signalling the others to do likewise. "Looks like we've got our first casualty. Multiple blaster burns. Looks like a navy trooper."

The sergeant stepped up to take a look for himself. With the power still out in this section of the ship,it was impossible to discern the colour of the mans' uniform, but there was no mistaking the half a dozen burn marks on the corpses' torso. An E-11 lay near his gloved hand, and his shell-like helm lay discarded to the side. "We haven't seen any one else, dead or alive. So where is everybody?"

"Could be they took their dead with them." Avira suggested, "but I don't see why they would. This ship was bound to be discovered eventually."

"Or maybe the crew went mad. Started shooting each other." Kouran suggested, corporals' chuckle sounding more worried than amused.

"Not likely" the squad medic responded, "I don't know about you but my helmet filters aren't picking up any airborne toxins. Besides, the ship didn't open fire on itself."

"So raiders, then. Ambushed the ship, boarded, then brought their dead with them."

"Stay focused" Merric cut through the speculation "our job isn't to speculated about who attacked the ship. We'll recover any information at the bridge and bring it to command. Then the recovery crews can drag this hulk to the nearest shipyard."

"Sir. Bridge is this way" Devan reported from up ahead, "we should keep moving."

"Right. Eyes open. The raiders might have missed someone. But our main objective is to reach the bridge." The imperials continued on towards the bridge of the cruiser. They came to a split in the corridor, one leading to the port side of the vessel, the other to starboard. "Drask. Merric here. Report status."

The shuttle guard replied in his typically neutral, no nonsense tone "no change, sergeant. Anything on your end?"

"We found a corpse. Whoever attacked the ship definitely boarded."

"Copy that. How far are you from the bridge?"

"We should be there within the hour, so long as we don't run into any complications. Standby for further updates."

"Understood."

The squad continued through several more corridors, most of them without power or very dimly lit. The corridor opened into a much wider one with a set of sealed blast doors at one end. Sealed crates sat on either side of it ready for transport and a pair of bulky lifter droids stood nearby, powered down. The stormtroopers ignored the droids and continued on towards the heavy doors. Devan lowered his rifle and stepped to the control panel. "Still has power. Stand by while I get this open." The others spread out around the door, weapons at the ready.

The heavy doors opened slowly and the corridor continued beyond. The lighting panels on the ceiling were still powered. Merric cycled back to the standard vision setting of his helmet and looked around. At the far end was a bank of turbolifts, where presumably one of them lead to the bridge. Several meters in front of the lifts was a makeshift barricade, formed with smaller shipping crates and an E-web repeating blaster cannon set up. A full squad of navy troopers plus the crew of the repeater lay scattered among the barricade, torsos and faces peppered with blaster burns.

"Looks like heavy fighting took place here. A last stand?" Kouran asked, nodding at the scoring on the walls behind them.

"Seems like it." Thoren replied, examining several burns against the durasteel wall beside the blast doors the squad had just walked through. "Looks like blood spatter on the wall. Someone came through here injured."

"Or left injured." Avira countered as the squad advanced towards the dead imperials and inactive E-web. At the barricade, they stopped once again to look over the dead. There was no real hope of finding survivors. Decomposition hadn't fully set in yet, but the corpses were stiff with rigor mortis. "I'd say twelve to sixteen hours since time of death. I'm no coroner, but they're still fairly stiff."

"We must have arrived just after the raiders headed out." Kouran said, stepping over a sprawling, blank eyed corpse. "Poor bastards."

"Nothing we can do now. Focus on getting the bridge lift active." Merric ordered, noting the barrel of the E-web had warped from overuse. "Komaad."

"Sir?" The hulking stormtrooper grunted, turning towards him.

"How long can an E-web sustain fire before overheating?"

"A minute. Maybe more if the crew modulates the power flow properly and there's no surges." The heavy weapons trooper knelt down to examine the barrel of the weapon. "Looks like they fired on full auto for all they were worth. Surprised the generator didn't blow."

"Sergeant" the corporal waved Merric over "the bridge lift is operational and on its way." The squad didn't have long to wait; the doors of the central turbolift quietly slid open, revealing a well lit interior. The stormtroopers stepped inside the cylindrical lift and Thoren hit the button to ascend to the cruisers' bridge. The ride was just long enough for Merric to update his two troopers that remained in the hangar, guarding their transport back to the star destroyer. The doors opened into another corridor, shorter and narrower than the one below.

The doors to the bridge were open, and two more corpses in navy uniforms were slumped against the wall. Most of the bridge lighting was down but a few consoles still flickered with life and the lighting from the systems star cast long shadows across the durasteel decking. Devan hopped down into one of the crew pits that were situated on either side of the central bridge walkway. "Most weapons are disabled. Shields are gone, obviously. They must have been caught by surprise. This girl doesn't have a lot of guns to start off but it should have held off some pirates."

"Where are the crew?" Thoren asked suddenly, sweeping his rifle over an empty bank of consoles. "I see blaster scoring on some of these consoles, and abandoned datapads but no bodies. Not like those naval troopers outside."

"So whoever attacked the ship also kidnapped the crew? That's a lot of people to move in a short amount of time" Devan countered, "could be someone already stopped by and picked them up already."

"Or not" the other trooper suggested darkly, patrolling the outer walkway of the bridge. The rest of the squad had stationed themselves around the immediate area, eyes open for survivors.

Merric stared out the forward viewport of the bridge, where the star destroyer _Huntress_, the squads' home for the past three years, was visible. The captain would want them back soon. And their company captain would want his report. He turned to address his squad mates when his boot brushed against something on the decking. He looked down and saw a datapad, undamaged and unusual, considering its position. He bent down and picked up the device, activating it. A quick perusal of the contents revealed that it had once belonged to the captain of the vessel.

"I don't know about the crew but the captain noted they were being shadowed by another ship. Shortly after they picked up something called Halcyon Twenty at Cartao."

"What's Halcyon Twenty?" Kouran asked, turning towards the sergeant. "Sounds like a code name."

Merric shrugged, "doesn't say. Must have been fairly large because it's stored in cargo bay three."

"Probably what the raiders were after if they started shadowing this ship after they made the pick up." The corporal suggested and Merric nodded his agreement.

"Standby. I'm going to update the _Huntress _and see if they want us to check the cargo bay." He switched from the squad channel to a general channel to the star destroyer. "_Huntress, _this is sergeant SN 1923. We've discovered something that may be of interest in cargo bay three of the cruiser. Requesting permission to investigate."

"We read you sergeant. Permission granted. We'll relocate your transport for quick pick up and return to the ship." The voice was male, with the same nasal tones as most officers from the core worlds. "The captain has allotted your squad an additional hour to explore the ship and retrieve any surviving cargo and crew."

"Understood, _Huntress._" He turned to the stormtroopers of his squad. "Prepare to move out. I'd like to see what Halcyon Twenty is and get it back to the ship if we can."

* * *

Fliss Dantion sighed and leaned back in the pilots seat of the _Sentinel _class lander she and her co-pilot had been assigned for the mission. Her polished black boots rested on the console, and her arms were folded behind her head, fingers running through her messy dark hair. Her helmet was off, resting on her lap, her emerald green eyes occasionally flicked across the data readouts without any real interest. With the assurance that all was as it had been the last time she'd checked, approximately thirty seconds ago, she looked away to the darkened hangar bay. The view from the cockpit was even less interesting than the interior. She sighed again and closed her eyes, wishing the stormtroopers sweeping through the ship would get on with it so she could return to the _Huntress _and maintain her actual vessel.

Even thinking of the sleek, dark hulled killing machine that was an imperial dropship transport she normally piloted had her hands tingling with eagerness. It had been too long since she'd flown a combat mission. Beside her in the copilots' seat, Kenneth Nane glanced over, sensing her discontent. "Problem?" He held a datapad in one hand, one leg crossed over the other, his helmet set on the console ahead of him. His brown eyes flicked up from the screen of his 'pad to look at her, a slight frown on his face.

"No. Just bored. I can't stand all this waiting around."

The corellian gave her a sympathetic half smile. "Tell me about it. If they're going to assign us this bird, they at least could give us a full crew." He jerked a thumb over his shoulder where four seats sat empty behind them. Three for sensor and comms and a fourth for the gunner. "Hopefully after this we'll be flying some combat missions in the _Talon_."

"She's just sitting in the hangar gathering dust right now. When was the last time we actually did a combat drop?" Fliss asked

Kenneth rubbed his shaved chin thoughtfully "couple of months ago? That skirmish on Draethos."

"Right. And we've been stuck chasing pirates through the sector since then. Waste of skills on our part and waste of a perfectly good star destroyer on commands' part" she griped.

"Careful, or they'll have you piloting garbage scows for the rest of your career" Kenneth teased, no longer looking quite so sympathetic.

Fliss glared at her copilot "and you'll be right there with me,bantha breath."

"Not likely!" He scoffed, "I'll be flying combat missions 'til the stars go out."

"More likely you'll ram into the hull of a star cruiser" she muttered. Before the other pilot could issue a retort the comlink built into the shuttle console started blinking. She dropped her legs off the console and leaned forwards to activate the link. "This is shuttle _Tarkus. _We read you."

"Shuttle _Tarkus_. Orders are to reroute to hangar bay three of the cruiser and rendezvous with the stormtrooper squad there to retrieve an item stored within the bay."

"Copy that, _Huntress. _Relocating now."

"Understood. You are expected aboard within the hour." With those orders, the comm went dead and Fliss looked over to her copilot who was in the process of placing his helmet back on his head.

"We'd better inform our friends outside. I don't think they'd be too happy with us if we stranded them here."

With her own helmet on, Fliss nodded and opened a channel to the stormtroopers standing at the base of the shuttles ramp. "You boys are gonna want to climb aboard. We're about to lift off."

"Acknowledged" one of the troopers, she wasn't sure which, responded with all the emotion of a droid. A moment later, she heard the clunking of boots on the ramp and then in the troop compartment.

"What a cheerful bunch." She muttered, beginning the pre-flight checklist.

"We can still hear you." Another voice, presumably the second trooper, said, his voice tinged with annoyance.

_Oops_. She glanced over to Kenneth, who was busy with the instruments on his side of the cockpit. Even with the bulky pilots' helmet in place, she imagined she could see his amused grin. Of course, it was her own fault for forgetting to switch channels before voicing her less than complimentary opinion of their passengers. Rather than apologizing, she commed "take off in five seconds."

She eased the shuttle off the hangar floor on repulsorlifts, maneuvering _Tarkus' _narrow nose until it was facing the star speckled void beyond the protective hangar bay shields keeping atmosphere inside the dead cruiser. She gently fed power to the engines, and the transport pushed through the barrier, into open space. Fliss felt a gentle jolt in her stomach as _Sentinel _class' left the artificial gravity of the larger ship. She cut the repulsors and poured more power into the engines, thrusting away from the bulk cruiser, before looping around, back towards the dead vessel and the stormtroopers aboard it.

"Cargo bay three is on the port side. It'll be cramped, but we should be able to set down to pick up the troopers and whatever cargo we're supposed to collect." Kenneth said, fiddling with the instruments on his console once again.

"I wonder what it is we're supposed to pick up. Can't be any surviving crew, the troopers would have just escorted them to the hangar."

"Don't know. Can't be too big, or they'd call for a lifter."

The shuttle made its way to the port side of the bulk cruiser, where Fliss and her copilot could appreciate just how dead in space the vessel was. All the running lights on that side were deactivated and what viewports they saw showed nothing but darkness."Activating exterior lights" the pilot said and the shuttles powerful spotlights bathed a section of the hull in light. Using _Tarkus'_ attitude thrusters, they searched along the wrecked ship until they came across a rectangular opening that obviously hadn't been made by an explosion or attack.

"That looks like our target. Take us in" Kenneth said, checking the schematics on his console. The transports' lights were the only source of illumination within hangar bay three. The light played over large, rectangular shipping containers dwarfed the figures of the seven white armoured stormtroopers walking towards the ship as it entered the bay. "Doesn't look like they have anything with them" the copilot observed as Fliss initiated the landing sequence.

"No, it doesn't" she agreed as the ship touched down on the hangar floor. She keyed the controls for the boarding ramp and saw the stormtroopers moving towards the landed transport. A moment later, she heard their boots thumping up the landing ramp. Their sergeant stepped into the cockpit and looked down at her. She craned her neck to meet his gaze, wondering if there were others on their way. Survivors, maybe, that the troopers had come across and decided to clear the path to the hangar. The stormtrooper shook his head, as if reading peoples' minds was one of the things they were trained to do.

"Back to the _Huntress_" he instructed, flat voice filtered through the speakers of his helmet. Before turning back to her console, she pointed at a datapad clutched in the sergeants hand.

"Is that what they wanted you to get?" She asked, curiosity getting the better of her.

The man shrugged fractionally, armoured shoulders rising and falling by less than an inch "maybe. We came across it in the quartermasters' office and it's encrypted. Command will probably want to take a look."

Fliss turned back to her console, quietly wondering what had happened to the crew of the cruiser and at the same time, hoping she wouldn't find out. "At least you managed to find something on this wreck." The pilot closed the landing ramp and brought the shuttle around until its angular nose was pointing back into open space. Slowly, the ship nudged its way through the hangar bay force field, into the cold lifeless void. Then, free of the constraints of the dead ship, she fed power to the drives, more than was necessary. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Kenneths' helmeted head turn ever so slightly in her direction and imagined his surprised expression. She didn't bothering explaining, not even on their private pilots' channel. A sudden urge to leave the bulk cruiser behind and return to the safety of their star destroyer had come over her. She wasn't sure she could explain it if she tried and now wasn't the time for awkward conversation.

The _Tarkus _looped up and above the other ship, orienting towards the wedge of the star destroyer several hundred kilometers in the distance. The difference between the vessel they'd just left and the ship quickly taking up the shuttles' forwards viewport. Running lights blinked on and lights could be seen where transparisteel replaced durasteel hull. The _Huntress, _one of thousands of _Imperial-_class star destroyers, waited for the shuttle and its' cargo of stormtroopers to return. The grey-white of its' hull shone like a beacon among the darkness of space; a welcome sight compared to the darkness of the bulk cruiser behind them. With the troop transport entering its' final approach on the destroyer ahead, Fliss cut back on speed, maneuvering to the _Huntress' _ventral hangar bay.

The _sentinel_-class passed through the forcefield of the bay, where several technicians and pilots turned to watch the transport come in for a landing. The blast doors at the far end of the hangar slowly opened, revealing a team of maintenance workers heading for the _Tarkus_, even as it settled on landing gear. "Okay, everybody out" she said, speaking into the general comm channel shared between the pilots and their stormtrooper passengers. Without a word, the nine soldiers stood and filed down the landing ramp, then further into the destroyers' interior. Fliss watched them go before finishing the shutdown sequence and stood up. She still had to file a report but after that, she had a date with a steaming cup of caf and whatever she could scrounge from the mess hall.

* * *

The squad followed in his wake as strode across the hangar bay deck, passing the maintenance crew as they hurried towards the transport still hissing steam and creaking on its' landing gear behind them. His helmet comlink beeped, signalling a private channel being opened. The identifier that popped up in the upper right corner of his helmet display indicated it was from captain Thaler. "Sir?"

"Report to the bridge. The commander and captain Demarov are waiting for your report."

"Copy that, captain" Merric said obediently, wincing at the spike of pain that accompanied the words. He'd kept his headache at bay while focused on the mission but now that they were back in friendly territory, it was back with a vengeance. "Squad, get some rest and food." The rest of the squad trooped past him headed towards the onboard barracks and mess hall. Merric took a different path, towards the turbolifts that would take him to the destroyers bridge. He clutched the encrypted datapad in his hand as he walked. Naval troopers, similiar to the corpses the squad had come across on the cruiser passed him. Several crew members were going about their business and mouse droids zipped between booted feet.

Merric received a nod from the lieutenant on duty at the security terminal. The sergeant returned the nod. Technically, the lieutenant outranked him but like all stormtroopers, he had his own chain of command. He stepped past the console to the line of turbolifts hitting the call button for the central lift. He didn't have long to wait before the lift doors slid open. A protocol droid and several mouse droids exited and he stepped inside, jabbing the button for the bridge. The turbolift jolted into motion, zipping through the star destroyers' insides.

It wasn't long before the lift came to a stop and the doors slid open and Merric stepped out into the corridor leading to the bridge. A pair of stormtroopers flanked either side of the entrance, along with a quartet of navy troopers. They noted his presence and then went back to staring at the turbolift he'd just come from. The sergeant walked past the guards and onto the bridge proper. Battalion commander Halsin stood in full armour, arms clasped behind his back. Beside him was the captain of the destroyer, captain Choris Demarov in the grey uniform of an imperial navy officer. His captains rank bars sat proudly over his right breast pocket. His skin was pale, contrasting with his short black hair and dark blue eyes.

"Sergeant. Your squad returned without any survivors. I take it you found no one aboard?" The captain spoke in the clipped mannerisms of someone raised in the core worlds. He frowned at the datapad in Merrics' hand.

"No sir, we only came across corpses" he admitted, "but the ship was obviously boarded. There were signs of a fight throughout the vessel."

"A pity but not a surprise. Pirates in this area of the rim are known for being relentless and skilled."

Merric stirred, wondering if the missing crew were worth mentioning. For all he knew, they might not have been abducted at all, instead thrown out an airlock or gathered in one central area and executed. Granted, it would take an ridiculous amount of effort and ammunition to execute roughly fifteen hundred crewmen. Not to mention pointless. But the squad hadn't had the time to scour the whole ship from hull to hull. His internal struggle was obviously noted, because commander Halsin tilted his helmeted head "was there something else, sergeant?"

"Sir. It may be the pirates didn't kill the entire crew. We only came across navy troopers."

"Interesting." Captain Demarov said, the slender fingers of his hand rubbing his shaved chin. "It would be no small task to transport that many people, but it's definitely possible. Was there anything else you noticed, sergeant?"

"The captains' datapad mentioned a ship shadowing them after they picked up something from Cartao. There may be more information on here, sir." He indicated the datapad.

Demarov stepped forwards,accepting the 'pad. "I'll have our intelligence section get to work on this. Thank you, sergeant."

Commander Halsin nodded back towards the turbolifts. "Dismissed. I expect your report by oh five hundred, ships time."

"Yes sir" Merric turned back towards the lift feeling the eyes of the stormtrooper and naval guards on him the whole way. The mission had been odd in the sense that no one had been shooting at him, and what they'd discovered on the captains' datapad. Whoever had attacked the ship seemed to be after whatever Halcyon Twenty was. He designated the information as need to know and being a humble sergeant, he was well aware that he did not on that privileged list. He formulated his report in his head, looking forwards to having it done so he could grab some much needed rest. Hopefully, a few hours of sleep would alleviate the persistent ache that lingered in his skull.


	2. Chapter 2

_**Chapter Two**_

_**Two years before the Battle of Yavin**_

_**Aboard the **_**Imperial-_class star destroyer _Huntress**

Captain Choris Demarov stared out into the void, a vast expanse of nothingness, broken only by the pinpricks of stars. Their silver white stood out against the black of space. Choris had been in the service of the Imperial navy for almost fifteen years. In those years, he'd seen massive space battles, super novas, and countless words from orbit. But nothing brought him peace like staring out into space. The murmur of the bridge crew going about their duties with the quiet efficiency expected of the crew of an imperial star destroyer made him brim with pride. He hadn't always been in command of the massive vessel. For the first eight years of his service, he'd commanded one of the aging _Acclamator-_class assault ships, patrolling the Hydian Way for pirates. It was only after he'd defeated a surprisingly large force of pirates in the Bogden system that he'd been recommended for promotion. A year later, he'd been granted command of the _Huntress. _Despite the upgrade, he still hunted pirates, though with frequent reports of rebellion springing up in different sectors, there was a chance that might soon change.

"Captain,report from lieutenant Ulek." Commander Maris Orvel said, holding a datapad in her hand.

"Ah. They've cracked that encrypted datapad, have they?" He accepted the pad, and began perusing its' contents. As the commander had said, it was a report from lieutenant Ulek, the head of the ships intelligence. He'd been charged with decrypting the datapad recovered from the abandoned bulk cruiser that shared the system with the _Huntress. _According to the lieutenants report he, or at least his people, had succeeded. Attached to the report was the content of the datapad. The text from the recovered pad confirmed what the stormtrooper had told him hours earlier. The ship, the bulk cruiser that still sat silent and crippled kilometres away, had arrived at Cartao to retreive something known only as Halcyon Twenty. There was no mention of what Halcyon Twenty was, it was mere listed in the ships inventory as if it was nothing extraordinary.

Below, there was a personal note by the ships quartermaster. Whatever Halcyon Twenty was, it had come aboard under heavy stormtrooper guard, and the crate had been fitted with an encrypted lock. "Strange" Choris murmured to himself. It was not unheard of for stormtroopers to bring precious cargo aboard a ship, but it was rather odd that the ship charged with carrying it had no escort.

"Sir?"

Startled, he glanced away from the screen to see commander Orvel still next to him, arms clasped behind her back and a puzzled expression on her face. "The quartermaster notes here that an item code named Halcyon Twenty was brought aboard under guard."

The commanders' pale grey eyes narrowed in thought, "perhaps that is what the raiders were after. And they either abducted or murdered the crew to make it look like a random attack."

The captain nodded thoughtfully. It made sense that the pirates would loot the vessel rather than steal it if they were only after what it transported. However, that line of thinking also brought up several questions. "That may be, but how did the pirates know which ship to target? Or what Halcyon Twenty was, if indeed that was their objective?"

Maris' eyes narrowed "a tracker, perhaps? Or..."she trailed off, "a traitor on board, feeding the pirates coordinates."

"Normally I'd warn you against jumping to conclusions, but I can't see any other way for the pirates to have tracked the cruiser so accurately." Choris confessed, "but who would be so keen to have Halcyon Twenty intercepted, I wonder?"

His second in command frowned "sir? I don't understand." Maris Orvel was a smart woman and undoubtedly competent, but she liked simple solutions. In her mind, a traitor was a traitor. Who that individual happened to be working for was irrelevant. That line of thinking would capture the discovered traitor, certainly, and in doing so, warn whoever they had been working for.

"Think, commander; pirates seldom bother infiltrating their targets, they're opportunists. Why strike one ship, regardless of what's on it, when another will do just as well?" He asked, powering down the datapad and turning his full attention on his subordinate.

"So not pirates, then." Her lip twisted as she came to the inevitable conclusion "rebels. They're getting bolder, if they think striking at imperial vessels won't bring retribution."

"Remember this is still speculation" Choris said, "but if I were a betting man, my credits would be on a rebel cell hiring or working with the pirates to attack this particular vessel."

"We should alert command. They're bound to know what Halcyon Twenty is, and they need to know what happened to the ship."

"Agreed. Ensign Stills-" before the captain could give his order to contact sector command, the ensign in question jerked in surprise.

"Uh, sir; incoming transmission from naval command."

"That was quick" Choris muttered to Maris, "put it through, ensign. My personal comlink, if you please."

The crewman signaled that it was done and the captain brought the device to his lips "this is captain Demarov of the _Huntress._"

"And this is agent Litos of the imperial security bureau, investigations division. I understand that you recently came across the bulk cruiser _Kalaban._ Our sources lost contact with it hours ago. What is its' status?"

The fact that an ISB agent was calling to check up on a single cruiser meant that whatever the _Kalaban _had been carrying was much more important than Choris had first assumed. "As far as we can tell, most systems are offline. It appears to have been ambushed by pirates, and the crew either killed or abducted, along with something called Halcyon Twenty."

"That was what we feared. Captain, that ship was carrying something very valuable to the empire. It is imperative that we track it down."

"With respect, agent, we have no way of tracking the pirates. They've struck and disappeared hours before we arrived in system." Choris responded, wondering what agent Litos expected of him. The outer rim was a big place, and pirates had dozens of nearby systems to hid in.

"You might not, captain, but _we _do. You are hereby ordered to report to the Generis system. Agent Litos, out." The link went dead with those words, and captain Demarov stared at the comlink in his hand. The thought of disobedience briefly crossed his mind, and was crushed just as quickly. He'd heard stories of officers that had drawn the ire of the imperial security bureau. With a sigh, he returned his comlink to his breast pocket and walked back onto the main bridge. The crew looked to him, awaiting his order.

"Set a course for the Generis system."

* * *

The medical droids scanner swept over Merrics' face. "No abnormalities detected. You are cleared for duty, SN-1923." The droid said in a baritone voice, turning away and stomping back to it's place in the corner of the medical bay. The sergeant grunted and hopped off the examining table. He scooped up his helmet from where he'd left it on the table beside him. He'd headed to the med bay directly after dismissing his squad and making his report. He'd considered just writing up and submitting his written report to the captain, and getting some rack time. But his headache had reached new levels of pain, and he knew Kouran would pester him about it as soon as he returned from the mess hall. So he'd resigned himself to the tedium of sitting through an examination in the destroyers' bay.

As he was moving towards the doors, the other flesh and blood being in the room stepped in front of him. Doctor Karstin, a thin, dark haired woman several inches shorter than Merric, held up a hand. "A moment, sergeant. This is the third time this month you've been here complaining of headaches. Have you noticed any other symptoms?"

Merric cocked an eyebrow, bemused. "You heard your droid, doctor. No abnormalities detected. Healthy as a horse."

The doctor shrugged, "so he says, but the droid is programmed to detect physical problems. Like...a tumor for example."

The stormtrooper barked a laugh "a tumor, huh?" He rubbed at his dry, tired eyes with the heel of his hand. "I have to admit, that would make sense about now."

"Funny" doctor Karstin said dryly, turning towards a row of cabinets on the far side of the bay. She rummaged around inside one of the cabinets for a moment before returning with a small packet. "Take two of these before you go to sleep."

Merric eyed the pills, "what are they?"

"Poison, of course. I'm secretly a rebel sympathizer" the doctor said with an exasperated snort. "Painkillers, sergeant. Not quite military grade, but they should help with your headaches."

His eyes narrowed "I don't need painkillers. It's just a headache."

"Right. Which is why you've been to visit me so often." She fluttered her eyes in an exaggerated manner, "maybe it's my winning personality?"

Despite himself, Merric smirked. "Alright, you got me." He accepted the packet and tucked it into a belt pouch. "Thanks, doctor."

"Gratitude from a stormtrooper. Shocking." The doctor said with a smirk, before theatrically directing him to the exit, "go on now. Be sure to come back if the headaches get worse. I can program the droid for a more specific scan."

"Got it" he placed his helmet back on his head and stepped through the door. He'd made it to the end of the corridor leading to the medical bay when the deck under his boots vibrated ever so slightly. It was more than maneuvering, the destroyer was entering hyperspace. He wasn't complaining; life on a warship was fairly standard. For stormtroopers, it could be downright boring. Like all stormtroopers, Merric and his squad had been trained in ship combat, including boarding operations and countering enemy boarders. But the battalion had been stationed aboard the _Huntress _for the past two years in the outer rim, hunting pirates and slavers. Merric hadn't yet encountered a pirate suicidal enough to board an imperial star destroyer.

Privately, he wished they _would _come across pirates willing to put up a fight. Or even some members of the so called 'rebellion'. He was careful not to voice those thoughts, of course. It was unbecoming for a sergeant, not to mention a _stormtrooper _sergeant to complain about his orders. He reached the turbolift and keyed for the deck with the troop barracks. As he waited for the lift to reach its destination, his mind wandered. He remembered back to the last time he'd been in the med bay that _hadn't _been for his damnable headaches.

It was just after the battalion had been assigned to the _Huntress. _The squad had been deployed on a moon of Sullust, Sulon, if he remembered right. Sullustan insurgents had been been spotted, and two squads, one of them Merrics' had been assigned to hunt them down. The mission quickly went sideway and Janos Dynn, the squad sniper had been caught in a blast from an improvised explosive device. Shrapnel had torn into through his bodysuit and it was by sheer luck that no major arteries were cut. The squad had lost the insurgents tracks and withdrawn, rushing Dynn to the med bay. The sniper had been submerged in a bacta tank and survived, but not without severe scarring to his neck and left side.

The lift came to a stop and the doors slid open, revealing one of the crew deck assigned to the battalion. Stormtroopers went about their business, most of them ignoring Merric. This was where he felt most at home. Among his white armoured brethren, each one sworn to carrying out the emperors' will, regardless of gender, homeworld,or station. He knew some joined because they liked the armour, or the authority that came with it. Merric joined because of the stability the corps represented. He remembered the chaos of the wars as a child. When the empire had risen from the ashes, promising security and stability for all its' citizens, he had leapt at the opportunity to join the academy on Carida.

The three years he'd spent in training on Carida had been the hardest of his life. The higher gravity had made the hours long wilderness treks in full gear miserable. Survival courses consisting of surviving in the sweltering deserts to freezing tundra. Live fire exercises, flash training, and learning emotion suppression techniques. The heart of the stormtrooper corps was unity. There was no 'self' in the corps. Every trooper was expected to have the others' back. Those who couldn't or wouldn't conform to that mindset were quickly _encouraged _to leave the program. Out of the hundred or so cadets that Merric had arrived with on Carida, less than half graduated. He'd never learned what had become of the others. Whether they'd joined the ranks of the imperial army, or gone back to civilian life, he neither knew nor cared. He'd been assigned to his squad and from there been sent out into the galaxy, to enforce the peace of the empire.

He reached the barracks and moved to the bunks assigned to his squad. Most were down to their black bodysuits, or in partial armour. They looked up as Merric rejoined them. Kouran caught his eye and tilted his head slightly in a silent question. Merric shook his head just as slightly. He wasn't in the mood to discuss his inconclusive visit to the med bay with the corporal. Certainly not with the entire squad listening in. Instead, he said "seems like we're on the move."

"Seems like it" Kouran agreed, removing his gauntlets before moving on to the bicep plates. "Hopefully we see some action soon. Some of the troops are getting fidgety."

"Maybe we're going after whoever attacked the cruiser" Avira suggested, having stripped off the upper half of her armour and stacked it neatly at the foot of her bunk. "I'd like to give those pirates a taste of imperial justice." The declaration was met with murmurs and nods of approval from the rest of the squad.

"Or we're headed to take care of another insurgent group." Orien said as he pulled off one of his boots.

"Seems everywhere we look there's another insurgent group" muttered Thoren as he stacked his armour plates. "It's getting worse."

"You expected it to get better?" Kouran snorted, "last time I spoke with my father, he seemed to think this whole rebellion was a sector problem."

"Isn't your father a planetary governor?" Devan asked as he began to disassemble and clean his rifle.

"Mhm. Driezen system. About as wise to the reality things as most politicians" Kouran said, rolling his eyes. "He thinks the rebels can be dealt with by a single task force."

Thoren shook his head, "your father's an idiot. No offense."

Kouran chuckled, his characteristic half smirk in place, "No argument here. Do you know he wanted me to join the navy?"

"We can all see how that worked out" Fen said, glancing up from calibrating his helmet, "but, hey, you're on a starship right now."

"And I've got the piloting skills of a drunk weequay" the corporal said, finished stripping out of his armour and stacking the plates.

"Good thing you didn't join the scout troopers" Devan said, "though it'd be funny to see you on a bike."

"Before he became a smear on the ground" Arjun joined the teasing, the big stormtrooper sitting on the edge of his bunk.

Armoured footfalls from behind Merric drew his attention. Lieutenant Calad, a gaunt man with platinum blonde hair and icy blue eyes stopped several feet away. The sergeant saluted as the rest of the squad leapt to their feet and followed suit. "At ease" the lieutenant drawled in a distinctly corellian accent, eyes flitting from trooper to trooper. Finally, they settled on Merric. "I just wanted to congratulate you and your squad. The captain was impressed with your recovery of the datapad."

"Thank you, lieutenant." The sergeant refrained from reminding the officer none of the squad needed praise for following orders. "Sir, may I ask you a question?" The lieutenant tilted his head slightly to the right, less than a fraction of an inch. It was the closest he came to granting a request. "Are we going after the people that ambushed the cruiser?"

"Word hasn't come down from the captain yet, which means I know as much as you do right now. Hang tight." With those words, Calad turned and walked back the way he'd come.

The squad exchanged glances, and Orien, frowning thoughtfully as he traced an old scar that stood out on his dark skin, said "that was strange. I've never heard him say so much as a 'good morning' to us."

"Unless we're at briefing. Makes you wonder what was on that datapad." Fen remarked.

"Above our paygrade" Janos said, joining the conversation for the first time.

Avira nodded, stretching out on her bunk, one arm folded under her head, the other playing with the tip of the long braid she fixed her brown hair into. "He's right. Leave the thinking and planning to the higher ups. I'm happy to go places and shoot people."

"You're the medic." Kouran reminded her bemusedly, "you should be focused on patching our people up."

The woman nodded, "and that" she agreed, drawing a sigh from the corporal.

Merric got to work removing his own armour. The battalion had seen little action while stationed on the _Huntress, _but every soldier knew the value of taking advantage of down time. He stripped out of the plastoid plates with practiced ease. Once he was down to his bodysuit, he stacked the plates neatly, and set his helmet atop the plastoid mountain. He briefly considered stripping out of his bodysuit as well and into some fatigues but dismissed the idea. With no timeframe as to where they were going or what they'd be doing, staying in the suit seemed like the best idea. Remembering the packet of pills doctor Karstin had given him, he removed two and swallowed them, hoping they'd at least provide a little relief. He stretched out on his bunk and shut his eyes.

* * *

**_Generis Orbit_**

Captain Demarov stood on the bridge of the _Huntress, _as the destroyer maneuvered into the planets' orbit. It had taken them the better part of three days to jump from their hunting grounds in the outer rim to the Generis system. The world of blues, greens, and beiges was ahead of them, appearing like dozens of other planets Choris had seen during his career. However, the captain was very much aware that he hadn't been called to the system to admire the world it was named after. Why the imperial security bureau had decided to have the _Huntress _make its' way to a mid rim world rather than the core, he didn't know, and he wasn't going to ask. His reflections were interrupted when the sensor officer, ensign Horst, turned towards him. "Captain, _victory class _star destroyer on approach vector. Identified as the _Malicious_."

"The _Malicious_" Choris repeated to himself quietly, "I don't believe I know her captain."

"Incoming communication, captain."

"Put it through" he instructed automatically, and was somewhat less than surprised when agent Litos' voice came over the bridge speakers.

"Captain Demarov. Excellent timing. I will be aboard momentarily." Even as the agent spoke, Choris notted a grey-white speck departing the _Malicious. _It was still too far to be certain, but if he were a betting man, he would have put good credits on the speck being the ISB agents' shuttle.

"Understood, agent. Will the _Malicious _not be joining us for this assignment?"

"No, captain. The _Malicious _is required elsewhere. Which is why I've ordered you to Generis." Agent Litos said in the same exasperated tone one would use on a misbehaving child.

Stifling an indignant and thoroughly inappropriate reply, Choris forced a pleasant tone, "understood, agent. It will be our pleasure to have you aboard for the duration of our assignment."

"I'm sure" the agent replied, and closed the link.

Resisting the urge to grind his teeth, he turned to commander Orvel, who was standing reliably a half metre behind him and to his right. "Send an escort of naval troopers to the hangar. I would hate for agent Litos to get lost on his way to the bridge."

The commander nodded and removed her own comlink from her breast pocket, before issuing orders into it. Choris self consciously straightened his uniform and made sure his rank plaque was in its' proper place. He was far from thrilled about having bureau people on his ship, but he would make damn sure they would find nothing reprimandible during their stay. That didn't mean they wouldn't pry, of course. Snooping around was what the ISB did best, and the captain would have been surprised if they didn't. Suspicious, even.

Another glance out the forward viewport revealed the _Malicious _moving away on sublight engines, out of Generis' gravity well. He watched the smaller destroyers' progress with mild interest, and wished her captain luck on their next assignment. The quiet hiss of turbolift doors behind him drew his gaze from the view outside the _Huntress_' bridge. To his mild surprise, agent Litos had decided not to board the destroyer by himself. He was the first out of the lift, followed by a short, bland looking fellow, whose eyes never seemed to focus on one thing for more than a second. Beside that one was a woman whose short,dark hair framed a pale face with dark eyes. She barely glanced up from the datapad she carried.

Stepping forwards, Choris said "agent Litos, welcome aboard the _Huntress._"

"Yes, the navy escort that met us said the same thing".The agent drawled, though the cold stare he directed at Choris told the captain that Litos knew exactly why he had arranged for an escort. "My subordinates and I will be needing cabins to store our equipment and rest."

"I'll see to it, agent. In the meantime, do you have a destination in mind?"

The agent smirked, "your enthusiasm will be included in my report, captain. Set a course for the Lybeya system."


	3. Chapter 3

**_Chapter Three_**

**_Imperial Star Destroyer_ Huntress**

The mess hall was busy when Merric and the members of his squad trooped inside. He recognized several members of his company, eating or talking at tables. The rest were either crew ratings or navy troopers. Janos branched off from the squad, claiming section of the long mess table for the others. Taking a tray from one of several stacks, he slid down the line to where a serving droid ladled mashed topato and ground nerf onto it. It didn't look particularly appetizing, but food was food. Besides, it beat the bland nutrient squares they relied on when out in the field. With tray in hand, he joined Janos at one of the long mess hall tables. Noise from naval troopers, ships crew, and a few other squads of stormtroopers mixed together, creating an unintelligible cacophony. The rest of the squad joined the sergeant and the sniper in ones and twos' each with a fully loaded tray of food.

Avira leaned forwards, her hair shifting slightly with the movement. "I heard we'd been retasked."

Kouran paused, his food laden fork halfway to his mouth, "you mean the _Huntress _has been retasked."

"Same difference" the medic grumbled, "I heard one of those security bureau folks came aboard at our last stop."

Fen joined the conversation, leaning in as close as he dared to the medic, "where'd you hear that?" He demanded, "I haven't heard anything like that, and we share a barracks."

The female stormtrooper grinned and pointed her fork at her squadmate, "but you don't have friends in the hangar crews."

"You shouldn't be gossiping" Devan Thane said from beside her, "makes us look unprofessional."

"You mean _human_?" She shot back, but she was grinning, not at all phased by Devans' adherence to protocol. "Don't worry about it, Dev' you can impress them by standing guard in full gear for the next few cycles."

The other stormtrooper shrugged and jabbed into his meal without looking up. "Just seems like a bad idea to be fraternizing with the crew"

Orien sighed theatrically, "give it a rest, Devan. Just because that pretty flight officer wouldn't give you the time of day..." he trailed off as Devan shot his squad mate a furious look and the others chuckled.

Their mirth lasted until Janos, as keen eyed as one would expect of a professional sniper, lowered his head and said "company inbound. Your five o'clock, Fen."

Merric, facing the stormtrooper in question, glanced in the direction Janos had indicated. Three people in the uniform of TIE pilots, lacking the breathing apparatus and helmets, were making their way towards the squad table. The leader was a dark haired male with pale skin and green eyes, with the cocky grin most fighter pilots seemed to have easy access to. The second was a woman with short hair so light blonde it was almost white. Her skin was lighter still, and contrasted with her dark eyes. She, Merric noticed, was not smiling. The third and final member of the pilot group was shorter than the others, but broad shouldered. He looked more like he was used to brawls in cantinas, instead of piloting a starship. His crooked nose seemed to reinforce that observation. His hair was a light brown, and slightly longer than regulation length.

The sergeant didn't recognize any of the pilots, but that didn't mean much. He'd only really spoken with the pilots of their transport, and only briefly. Still, he couldn't help but tense slightly as the lead pilot and his comrades sauntered up to the table. "Heard you guys were the ones' that checked out that old hulk we stumbled across in the middle of nowhere."

Fen and Orien, sitting beside each other opposite Merric and Janos, had twisted around to face the newcomers. "What's it to you?" Kouran asked, grinning up at them. Despite the carefree way he spoke and slumped forward against the table, his eyes were hard.

The lead pilot chuckled and held his hands up in front of him, fingers splayed "whoa there, buddy. Just making some friendly conversation." He jabbed himself in the chest with his thumb, indicating the rank bars there. "Lieutenant Piron Myes. These are my wingmates, Killian Bonste and Lira Sedrest. Sable squadron."

"All due respect, lieutenant," Merric said, "but what's that got to do with anything?"

The lieutenants' smile faded slightly and he looked from Merric to Kouran "I'm sorry, I thought you knew" he removed a datapad from his belt, and held it up "my squadron is going to be flying cover for your transport on the upcoming mission. I like to get a feel for the cargo as well as the pilots, you know?"

"Cargo?" Kouran said increduolously, eyebrows shooting up in surprise.

"You prefer ground hogs?" The lieutenant said, cocky grin back in place as he focused his attention on the corporal.

"You prefer coffin jockeys?" Kouran shot back, but the challenge was gone from his eyes, "I thought you guys stuck to your own little circle. Isn't the pilots life too glamorous to waste time talking with us dirt huggers?"

Lieutenant Myes expression turned thoughtful. "You know, you're so right. We'll be seeing you white caps later." With a dramatic gesture, he lead his two compatriots to some seats several tables away.

There was a bemused pause among the stormtroopers as they all looked to one another to see who was going to break the awkward silence. Finally, Fen turned back to face the other, and with one eyebrow crooked, declared "pilots are strange."

Kouran nodded sagely, "had his helmet on a little too tight, I think."

" I think I heard our transport pilot talking about him once" Devan said, "she mentioned he was a little strange but a damn good flier."

"I'm amazed he can fit inside his TIE with that ego." Avira said, staring after the trio of pilots.

"Most of them are like that, is what I heard" Devan scratched thoughtfully at his chin, "I wonder what assignment he was talking about."

"Above our pay grade" Merric said with finality, "we'll hear about it when the higher ups are ready for us to hear about it." That killed the conversation in its tracks, the for the rest of the meal, the stormtroopers sat quietly, each absorbed in their own thoughts.

* * *

"Hydrospanner" Fliss demanded, holding one gloved hand out from where she stood, working on the underside of a dropship. Of her dropship, even though she was careful not to refer to it as such when superior officers were around. Officially designated Imperial Dropship Transport Aurek Trill thirty four, its' callsign was _Talon. _The sleek black hull, and angled transparisteel cockpit suited the name. Though the dropship could only carry a platoon of troopers into battle, it was faster than the larger, better armoured Sentinel class. Orders had recently been passed down to ready the vessel for deployment within the next twelve hours. There had been a mention of boarding operations, which mad Fliss wonder if they were going after whatever had been on the wrecked bulk cruiser.

Realizing that her empty hand still hadn't been filled with the tool in question, she snapped "Kenneth!" There was no response from her co-pilot, so she stepped out from under the _Talon_s' hull, looking around for the irritating corellian. Her eyes narrowed when she spotted him chatting with a grey uniformed crewman, with blonde hair in a tight bun, laughing at some story he was telling. Grumbling under her breath, she picked through the tools scattered around her feet. Picking up an impact wrench, she drew her arm back and threw it at the man.

It landed several feet short of her intended target, and clattered across the decking. The noise had the intended effect though, drawing Kenneths' attention, along with several other pilots, techs, and crewmen in the vicinity. She pointed imperiously at the corellian "hydrospanner!" Kenneth went red in the face, mumbled some excuse to the crewman, and scooped up the thrown wrench. He set it down on a nearby workbench and retrieved the requested tool. With it in hand, he sauntered towards Fliss and placed it in her outstretched hand.

"You could have just asked for it, you know" he said, slightly petulant.

"I _did, _blockhead. You were too busy admiring-"

"Now, now, Fliss. Don't be jealous. It's unbecoming of a pilot in his majestys' navy to let her emotions dictate her actions."

Fliss grabbed another tool, this time a sonic screwdriver, "I won't miss at this range" she warned. "Now help me. We've got less than twelve hours to get the _Talon _flight ready, and I'm not going to be the one explaining to the captain how everyone but us is ready for launch."

"Relax" Kenneth said, walking around the cockpit to check the wing mounted missile launchers. "This baby might be dusty, but she can still out fly anything short of a TIE."

"Tell me that again when we break down because of improper maintenance." Fliss growled, "check the engine nozzles and fuel lines. I'll make sure the targeting arrays are still functioning properly." The two of them spent the next few hours checking and double checking the dropships functions, repairing minor problems as they appeared. When Fliss was satisfied, she allowed a crew to maneuver the ship to a rearming station. With the _Talon _ready to fly, there was nothing to do but wait for the launch order.


	4. Chapter 4

_**Chapter Four**_

_**Imperial Star Destroyer **_**Huntress**

The _Huntress _flickered with pseudomotion as it left hyperspace. The warship, a wedge of grey-white durasteel bristling with weapon emplacements, had finally arrived in the Lybeya system. Several hundred kilometres ahead, lay the Vergesso asteroid field, dense enough to prevent access to all who didn't know the constantly changing routes through the field. It had once been an imperial cargo depot. Now it was a haven for pirates, smugglers, and other fugitives from the emperors' justice. These individuals, caught by surprise, had no time to coordinate a defense. The nearest vessels, light freighters and transports, mostly scattered, desperate to reach a safe point for a hyperspace jump. The destroyer ignored these vessels, powering forwards on its' massive ion engines, towards a large space station situated within the field. It's forward guns flashed, brightening space with green laser fire as it vaporized larger chunks of rock. Smaller asteroids bounced off the destroyers' particle shields, the impact sending them tumbling away.

The first ship to respond to the unexpected intruder was an Interceptor-class frigate, powering away from the station and launching a brace of proton torpedoes. The torpedoes exploded against the _Huntress'_s prow, the shields dissipating the damage in blue-white halos across the hull. The destroyers' response was immediate and devastating. Turbolaser cannons flashed as the star destroyer opened up with its' forward guns. The frigates' shields snapped out of existence in an instant and suddenly naked in the void, it had no way to avoid the second volley of cannon fire. Most of the volley was focused on the Interceptor class's sloping forward prow. The bridge blew apart, the top deck layers peeling away to expose the crew to the killing vacuum of space. With the frigate robbed of guidance, it plowed forward blindly, until a final volley ripped it apart midships. Bodies, flame, and materiel poured into the void, with the frigates separate pieces tumbling away into the asteroid field.

On the bridge of the _Huntress_, captain Demarov clasped his hands behind his back, a thin, satisfied smile on his face. "Excellent shooting. My compliments to the gunners." The pirate station was directly ahead, dotted with missile launchers, shield projectors, and several dozen turbolaser emplacements. An assortment of fighters were spilling out of several hangar bays, homing in on the large target that was the Imperial-class star destroyer. It was impossible to count them all with the naked eye and Choris wasn't fool enough to try. Defensive fire from the destroyers' forward batteries blew apart some of the incoming starfighters but most continued forwards, juking and jinking.

"Captain, we have a read on the incoming fighters. Eighteen Headhunter-class, twelve CloakShape class, and five Y-wings." The sensor officer reported in clipped tones.

A chuckle at his right shoulder told him just what commander Orvel thought of the pirates chances. "Did they raid a junkyard, or are they just desperate?" She ended her question with a derisive snort.

"They're used to easy prey, more likely" he replied, "launch TIE fighters, with the Y-wings as priority targets. Hold two squadrons in reserve as escorts for the dropships."

The tactical display showed the TIE's launching from the _Huntress'_s belly hangar, before swarming forwards to engage the outmatched pirate vessels. The resulting dogfights did not take long, as the superior training and discipline of the imperial pilots became apparent. When the last of the enemy were dispatched, the TIEs circled back towards their mother ship, forming a defensive screen. "Helm, slow ahead, gunnery crews, prepare to fire on defensive missile launchers and ion cannons. Flight command, prepare to launch drop ships."

As his orders were acknowledged, the destroyer began to move ponderously forwards, the vessels' gun crews checking and re-checking targeting locks. The pirate station filled space with a barrage of ion, laser, and missile fire, unleashing every gun facing the approaching imperial ship. The bridge viewport was filled with the flash of dispersal energy as the shields absorbed the barrage. "Shields to seventy five percent, sir" one of the bridge officers reported. The captain nodded to indicate he had heard the man, then glanced at the tactical display once more. He watched as the blue triangle that represented the _Huntress _inched closer to the large, red circle that was the pirate base. Several minutes passed and the destroyer endured two more volleys of enemy fire. "Shields to sixty five percent, captain" the same officer relayed.

The tactical display indicated that the _Huntress _and the station were now less than a thousand kilometres away. Knife range, when it came to space battles. "All guns, open fire." In a hundred brilliant flashes of green, the star destroyer unleashed its' wrath on the enemy. After approximately forty seconds of sustained fire, the stations' shields flashed out of existence. Twenty seconds later, the opposing weaponry was reduced to flaming wreckage. The hull of the pirate base oriented towards the _Huntress _now appeared more like a metallic, cratered moon, rather than a space stations' shell. "That will do," Choris said, watching the devastation with undisguised pride. It had been too long since his ship had seen real combat. "Launch dropships and TIE escorts. Establish patrol routes in the nearby asteroids. I want active sensor sweeps of the system every ten minutes. I doubt a single frigate was their entire defense force."

"An impressive show, captain." The voice of agent Litos sounded from the turbolift at the rear of the bridge. Gritting his teeth, the captain turned away from the tactical display to face the security bureau agent. "I hope you haven't forgotten that Halcyon Twenty must be retrieved _undamaged_."

"I assure you, agent Litos, the object will be acquired in one piece. It is extremely unlikely that the pirates keep their misbegotten goods so close to the outer hull. Besides, there is a good chance that there are imperial crewmen aboard. I would not risk their lives unnecessarily."

The agent smiled, though it didn't reach his dark eyes. "This is a retrieval mission first and foremost, captain. The rescue of any imperial personnel aboard is a secondary objective only."

The captain matched the other mans' smile "of course, agent Litos. We will ensure the retrieval of this...item. But imperial lives are still at stake, and I will be sure to include your disregard for the well being of fellow servants of the emperor in my report."

The agents' smile turned predatory as he stepped into Choris' personal space. "And I, captain, will be sure to include your disregard for orders in _my _report."

The two men faced off for a brief moment, when the a bridge officer from the sensor suite broke the tense silence "captain, we've noticed an additional two Marauder-class corvettes and a dozen Y-wings inbound at thirty degrees to starboard."

Choris took a step away from the agent "if you'll excuse me, there is still a battle to be won here."

Litos inclined his head slightly, a smile somehow colder than the first "by all means captain. I will be in my cabin, if I am needed." The agent turned on his heel and made for the bridge turbolift, but the captain was no longer paying him any attention. He did have a battle to win, after all. With the station effectively nullified, he said "helm, bring us about thirty degrees starboard, if you please. Gunners, ready to fire on the leading vessel. One squadron of TIEs to engage the Y-wings, the others to cut off any escape." His orders were acknowledged and the _Huntress _began to rotate ponderously to starboard, aiming its prow and the majority of its guns, towards the oncoming pirate vessels. A thin, if genuine smile came to his lips. "Fire at will."

* * *

The briefing had been called barely an hour before the _Huntress _had dropped out of hyperspace. The captain had assembled first company in one of the large barracks areas, a hundred and fifty stormtroopers, dressed in gleaming white plasteel. The entirety of the company was going to be deployed to the space station, with the objective of recovering the object known as Halcyon Twenty. Intelligence suggested that it was in some type of cargo container, with imperial markings. Several sergeants had brought up the question of how they were supposed to find a random cargo container in a pirate station,and been told that imperial techs would be going through the stolen imperial goods once they'd been secured.

Dismissed, the squad sergeants and platoon leaders had dispersed to spread the word amongst their subordinates. Most of the stormtroopers selected for the mission spent the remaining hour prior to deployment in the armoury. Merric and his squad were no exception. The squad performed last minute checks on comms and other helmet systems while gearing up. The sound of armour plates clacking together, blasters priming, and occasional bouts of conversation filled the space. The moment the gentle vibrations of the deck under their boots ceased, they were moving, headed for the hangar bays.

As the _Huntress _brushed aside pirate defenders and asteroids alike, the stormtroopers formed into platoons, checked weapons, and assembled by their assigned transports. What followed was a quarter hour of waiting, Merric, two squads of troopers, one of them his own, and the dour lieutenant Calad. The sergeant did his best to ignore the idle chatter of seventeen other stormtroopers crammed into the troop hold of the dropship _Talon. _He knew some soldiers talked to get a handle on their nerves. It helped to soothe the anticipation of the imminent hell that was combat.

Not Merric though. He closed down all of his helmets' comm channels and basked in the blessed silence. He could hear his own breathing, strong and steady. He was a veteran of a dozen combat insertions. More importantly, he was a _stormtrooper._ Death didn't scare him. Pain didn't scare him. Failure though, that made him anxious. Made him sweat even in the temperature controlled bodysuit. Made his heart beat twice as fast as normal. But he was a stormtrooper and a sergeant. His squadmates looked to him for guidance. He could not be seen to be sweating like a fresh recruit on his first mission. Therefore, he purged all thoughts of failure from his mind. Breathe in. Breathe out. His mind became focused with the sharpness of a blade, even as the heads up display on the inside of his visor lit up with a countdown.

Five minutes, the blocky numbers in the upper right corner of his visor informed him. The blast doors of the dropship slammed shut, blocking out the harsh white light of the hangar bay. Sealing in atmosphere, keeping the lethal void of space from its' deadly cargo. A dull red light filled the troop bay, painting the white armour of his comrades a bloody hue. The countdown in the corner of his visor ticked away, reaching four minutes as a slight vibration ran through the dropships' hull. The repulsors had come online as _Talon _and several of its' fellow craft lifted off the hangar floor.

The vibrations ceased as the ship left the artificial gravity of the bay and the sublight engines took over, propelling the vessel forwards, attitude thrusters adjusting its' course. The countdown continued; three minutes now and counting. Merric breathed in. He breathed out. Thoughts of failure, concerns of inadequacy fled from his mind. Even his damnable headache was absent. There was only the mission. Despite the internal compensators, he still swayed as the dropship began to take evasive action. Merric was not worried. The pirates were not expecting anyone to drop in on their front doorstep. Whatever defenses they could muster were insufficient in the face of overwhelming imperial firepower.

The countdown hit two minutes. The evasive juking of the dropship grew in frequency as it neared its target. Even with TIE fighters blasting pirate ships to nothingness, and the _Huntress _neutering the pirates' heavier weaponry, the ship was still drawing attention by the surviving defenders. The pirates may have not been expecting an attack, but they were still ruthless fighters, and they knew that allowing enemy boarders to land would cost them greatly. So it made sense for the black-hulled dropships to become the primary targets of the surviving fighter craft and gun crew.

The countdown reached one minute. In his visor, seconds flashed downwards before his eyes. Merric reopened his comms, joining the command net and the local squad frequency. Chatter had ceased as the stormtroopers tensed in anticipation; white clad killers, ready to pounce as soon as the blast doors opened. The countdown reached thirty seconds as the _Talon _nosed its' way through the force field of a hangar bay. Small arms fire struck the durasteel hull, hissing on impact or deflecting away, into the force field or the walls and ceiling of the bay. Twenty seconds and counting. The _Talon _shuddered as it returned fire with its' forward laser cannons.

There was a soft _thud _as it set down on the bay floor. "Stormtroopers," lieutenant Calads' voice came over the platoon comms, "eliminate hostiles."

* * *

Some people compared the cockpit of a TIE fighter to a coffin. Lieutenant Piron Myes liked to refer to those people as 'close minded idiots'. True, there wasn't much room to stretch out in the cockpit, and if something went wrong, it generally went _really _wrong. But TIEs' were the most maneuverable fighters in the Empire, which meant the enemy generally didn't get much of a chance to fire on them before being blown apart themselves. Sable squadron wasn't elite, like 181st, or Onyx squadron, not by a long shot. They'd all passed their exams with above average scores and they were more than a match for the random pirate and mercenary groups they'd tangled with since being assigned to the _Huntress. _

Being attached as escorts to the troop transports was an important duty, with lots of responsibility attached. But by the stars, it was _boring. _Escort a dropship to it's assigned hangar, circle back, rinse and repeat until Piron was confident he could have flown with his eyes shut. So it was no wonder that he was considerably relieved when flight command announced the last ship had reached its' objective. He could have shouted with joy when his sensors picked up a ragtag enemy squadron emerging from deeper inside the asteroid field.

Instead, he opened the link to his squadron "Sable squadron, form up on me and prepare to intercept the enemy. Bearing one point three five."

"Sable two, acknowledged" that was Lira, the eagerness in her voice hard to miss.

"Sable three, on your wing" Killian spoke a moment later, his tone more neutral, professional.

The list went on, the remainder of the squadron confirming his orders and the bearing he'd transmitted to them. He could see the friendly icons of eleven other TIE's forming up behind him in groups of four, maintaining an ever widening diamond formation. The imperial fighters vectored to intercept the enemy, feeding power to the ion drives of their craft. The seconds ticked by as Piron approached maximum firing range. The targeting reticule fed into his helmet lens from the control board interface fed him numbers,target profiles, and range.

His target was merely a speck, only visible by the glow of engines as it powered its' way through the void. The distance was closing quickly now and the enemy vessel began to jink and juke, trying to keep out of his sights. Piron felt a predatory grin spreading across his features as his targeting reticule blinked from white to red. "Too late" he murmured and squeezed the trigger. The twinned laser cannon on the 'chin' of his TIE opened up, spitting bright green fire at his target. There was no immediate connection-the other pilot was aware of the lock and working to break it.

Instead of maintaining their heading, the other ship looped down and around, dashing back towards the thicker parts of the asteroid field. "Break formation and engage" Piron snapped as he swerved to avoid a blast-scarred Z-95 headhunter. He stopped firing and poured power into the engines, steadily gaining on his target. The rest of the squadron swirled in a chaotic dogfight behind him, fully engaged now. The speed of his craft had him getting into visual range, so close that he could see the rear of the other ship as it twitched its' way through evasive maneuvers. With an irritated growl, Piron blinked the targeting reticule away; the two craft were so close together now, there was no real way he could miss.

He could hear the declarations of near misses and confirmed kills on the squadrons' comm net. His finger depressed once more on the firing stud, unleashing a sustained burst of cannon fire. The other ship, a beat up looking CloakShape, managed to swerve to port, avoiding most of the laser fire. A glancing blow ignited a short-lived flame on its' engine casing, but nothing lasting. Fighting frustration, Piron stuck to his targets' tail, waiting for the opportune moment. It came when the enemy attempted the dive and swoop around manuever once again. This time he was ready for it, already angling down to intercept the other pilots' trajectory. A stream of laser fire blew apart the cockpit and pilot within, leaving the CloakShape to spiral to a lonely death.

The lieutenant swung wide, returning to the site of the original skirmish. His squadron was reforming, leaving the wreckage of pirate vessels to tumble into the void. A pair of Marauder-class corvettes were slowly drifting apart, victims of turbolaser barrages, courtesy of the _Huntress. _Nearby, Piron watched as a squadron of TIE bombers loosed their concussion missiles into the spine of a corellian gunship. Hull plates buckled and dented under the assault and the gunship snapped lengthwise, spewing flames and bodies into space.

The voice of star fighter command came over his comlink. "All squadrons, all squadrons, enemy defenses have been neutralized. Establish patrol patterns and sentry patterns. Await further instruction."


End file.
